


In Regards to Pirozhki: For You

by littlepurinsesu



Series: Yurio!!! NICE [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Expansion, Canon Universe, Comfort, Episode 9, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationships, Swearing, Tsundere Yurio, Victor is only mentioned, Yurio is a sweetheart, friendship fluff, mostly comfort, the pirozhki scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 12:06:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11897400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlepurinsesu/pseuds/littlepurinsesu
Summary: It's not every day that Yuri Plisetsky comforts sad figure skaters and casually offers them a bag of his favourite food. But if it's for a certain pork cutlet bowl, he's willing to give it a try.





	In Regards to Pirozhki: For You

**Author's Note:**

> This is a direct continuation of [In Regards to Hugs: No](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11803425). (The two were originally intended to be one fic, but the hug scene got so long that I decided to split them into two separate parts.) Both can be read as complete standalone pieces, but I do recommend reading In Regards to Hugs first for better context and buildup! I had a lot more creative freedom with this one because of how little detail we were given in the anime, and I hope I managed to do my favourite Yuuri & Yurio moment justice! Yurio is an absolute sweetheart and I will protect that smile to the ends of the earth.

There were a few things that Yuri Plisetsky did not like. Quite a few, actually.

The long list included but was not limited to: being randomly attacked with unwanted hugs, searching for people in the snow at night, and having to fuss and fret over lonely idiots who were in desperate need of love.

And yet, in the span of one eventful night, the Rostelecom Cup fourth-placer had managed to put Yuri through all three. Yuri was disgusted, impatient, and worried, and he couldn’t wait to find that stupid pork cutlet bowl so that he could put an end to both of their miseries.

_Fuck my life, how did it come to this? Since when was Katsudon’s misery my misery as well?_

Flakes of snow fluttered delicately in the icy air, dancing in a colourful harmony with the illumination of various traffic lights and street lamps. There was an occasional flash of brightness when a car zoomed past, and the trees swayed gently in the chilly breeze, sprinkled with the shimmering whiteness of their winter garments. Yuri trudged on, a bag of pirozhki in his hand and a frown on his face as he continued to search.

The Japanese skater couldn’t have gone very far in this unfamiliar city, and Yuri could only rely on his instincts to guide him to the person he needed to find. And he needed to find him as quickly as possible. The idiot could have gotten himself into danger after dark in a place he couldn’t navigate well. His troubled mindset might even cause him to do reckless things that could jeopardise his wellbeing. Or he might have gotten lost somewhere, doomed to freeze or starve to death if someone did not come for him.

Needless to say, Yuri Plisetsky was starting to freak out, so he was beyond relieved when he finally saw it.

A figure wrapped in a thick brown coat, leaning weakly against the railings as he stared off blankly at the emptying road. With his glasses in front of his eyes and a surgical mask over his nose and mouth, Yuuri Katsuki’s face was almost completely concealed. Yet there was no mistaking the slouched physique and downcast eyes as he stood, brooding over something that Yuri had a pretty good idea of.

The sight made Yuri’s heart clench a little, enough so that he almost chided himself for not having returned the pork cutlet bowl’s impulsive hug earlier on. If he had, maybe Yuuri wouldn’t be like this right now. Sure, he wasn’t Victor, but perhaps he could have made just a tiny bit of difference if he hadn’t been so defensive back then. Yuri had never been much of a hugger himself, but given how crestfallen and lonely the Japanese skater looked, he might—keyword being _might_ —have been willing to give him a tiny cuddle if the idiot had just asked and explained himself rather than stalking around and jumping on everyone like a fucking zombie.

But no, it wasn’t Yuri’s fault. This technically wasn’t even any of his goddamn business, yet here he was, navigating the streets of Moscow in the freezing cold while clutching the bag of cold pirozhki that was his to begin with.

This was Victor’s fault. The incompetent geezer who had ditched his protégé and left him to deal with his nerves and anxiety all alone while he flew off to Japan for his dog. So no, actually, it was Makkachin’s fault! And all because the bundle of useless brown fluff had almost choked himself to death. Did he not know that he wasn’t supposed to eat those fucking manju? Was he not taught anything? Fuck, could dogs even be taught this kind of stuff?

 _Dumbass dog._ Yuri hoped he was okay.

Speaking of dumbasses, the pork cutlet bowl seemed to have absolutely no idea that Yuri was slowly advancing towards him from the side. Even the steady crunching of fallen snow beneath sneakers and the slight rustle of a paper bag did not stir him from his daze. Did the dumbass human not have ears or peripheral vision? Yuri could have been a thief or a killer, and with the state that Yuuri was in right now, targeting him would have been all but too easy. Was he often like this? How will he protect himself if he never notices people approaching?

Yuri stopped a few metres away from the disheartened Japanese man, because _shit_ , he hadn’t rehearsed an opening line. It wasn’t every day that he comforted sad figure skaters and casually offered them a bag of his favourite food. What should he say? ‘Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t hug you back’? ‘You must be feeling lonely without Victor’? ‘I saw that you looked pretty miserable back there, so here I am to keep you company and hopefully cheer you up a bit’?

The ideas were preposterous and out of the question, and Yuri felt like throwing up at the thought of ever uttering those words, even if there may have been some truth in them. And plus, his aim was to give Yuuri some kind of semblance of home and the warmth he craved, not alarm him even more by being overly eager and gross. Normalcy might be the better option.

So Yuri did what he did best. He leapt and hurled his body forward, extending his leg to dig his foot squarely into the Japanese skater’s body. There was just the right amount of force and aim in the kick to send Yuuri plummeting sideways with a startled yowl, before dropping face-down onto the snow.

‘There you are, Katsudon,’ Yuri grumbled. ‘You made me look for you.’

He almost slapped a palm over his mouth for that declaration, but then Yuuri rotated himself on the ground and looked up at him with eyes so vulnerable that his embarrassment vanished instantly.

‘Oh, Yurio…’ Yuuri managed to articulate. Yuri had long since moved on from refusing to answer to that undesirable nickname to begrudgingly tolerating it only from certain people. But tonight, hearing the word flowing so naturally from Yuuri’s mouth almost made him feel comforted. Yuri wasn’t sure what he had been expecting or possibly even fearing, but Yuuri’s response was enough to calm his nerves a smidgen. As it turned out, the Japanese man wasn’t the only person who needed some sense of normalcy tonight.

Regardless, Yuri was still traumatised from the sickening hug fest and more than a little exasperated by Yuuri’s disappointing skating performance, so he had some good complaining to do.

‘What was that earlier? Stop creeping me out! And what was that free skate, anyway?’ he scolded, not once pausing to allow Yuuri to answer; he needed to get it all out of his system before he chickened out and stormed back in the direction he had come from. ‘You can make the excuse that you couldn’t do your best because Victor wasn’t there,’ Yuri reminded the confused Japanese skater, before shoving his resentment into the pit of his stomach so he could speak the next words without detonating, ‘but I was in top form and earned a new personal best, only to lose to JJ again! You have no right to feel more down than me, Katsudon!’ By now, Yuri was pointing an accusing finger right in Yuuri’s innocent face and had raised his voice so that he was bellowing.

Yuri was never one to openly talk about his failures, especially with rivals and competitors. Would he later feel humiliated that he painted himself in a lowly light simply to cheer someone else up? Probably. But if it managed to relieve Yuuri’s discouragement and self-loathing, then maybe Yuri could suck it up and get over it eventually.

With that, Yuri felt his fingers tighten around the worn paper bag. The moment had arrived. It was now or never.

Should he do it? It wasn’t too late to back out. He could casually end this somewhat pointless conversation and troop back to the safety of his room, where he would be free from the pressure of expressing an emotion other than anger. But then, what? Leave the stupid pork cutlet bowl out here, moping in the frigid winter of Moscow? The teen would then spend the rest of the night staring ruefully at the bag of uneaten pirozhki, too ashamed to eat them himself.

_Alright, fine, let’s do this… Actually, you know what? Screw it. But still… I can’t just… Oh, for fuck’s sake…_

This was a life decision for Yuri Plisetsky. But then his eyes met Yuuri Katsuki’s downhearted ones and took in the sight of his doleful posture, and he decided, _to hell with it_.

It was like his arm moved before his brain directed it to, tossing the bag into Yuuri’s lap. ‘You can have it,’ the teen muttered, unable to look at Yuuri’s face as he felt an unwelcome heat tingling beneath the skin of his face. ‘It’s almost your birthday, right?’

_Fuck, why is my face burning up like this? It’s supposed to be fucking snowing._

‘Eh?’ Yuuri looked down and opened the paper bag in his lap. ‘Pirozhki?’

Yuri wished the ground would swallow him up right then and there as he watched the Japanese skater take in the sight of his early birthday gift. There was no turning back now. He was done for. The cool and edgy Ice Tiger of Russia had caved beneath the forces of sympathy and affection, reduced to nothing but a mass of sappy, pleasant _niceness_. This was absolutely disgusting, yet Yuri found that he did not regret this disgusting decision one bit.

He buried his fists in the pockets of his hoodie, not daring to direct his gaze at the man sitting on the ground before him. ‘Eat,’ he ordered.

And just his luck, a fucking car decided to whizz past at that precise moment, possibly drowning out the one word he had managed to muster.

_I am not fucking repeating myself._

‘Huh? Right here?’ Yuuri asked innocuously.

‘Eat!’ barked Yuri. Good god, why was he so helpless tonight? Yuri would need to find time later to mourn the bygone days when he had been a strong and formidable young man.

His internal struggles were halted as the pork cutlet bowl slowly rose to his feet, tucking the bag of pirozhki against his belly. He lowered the mask that had been concealing his face, and when he did, Yuri felt comforted once more to see that his expression was not as devastatingly forlorn as he had been expecting.

Beneath the mask, Yuuri Katsuki had the countenance of a lonely child, lost and defenceless in this foreign country without his primary source of warmth and solace. Yuri felt reassured to note that there were no tear stains or signs of serious affliction, yet there was no denying that while things could have been worse, they definitely could be better.

But when Yuuri reached shyly into the brown bag and picked up a single pirozhok, there was a blissful glimmer in his eyes that seemed to lift all of his features in a relaxed expression of curiosity. Yuri was pleased to hear a satisfying _crunch_ as Yuuri bit into the baked bun, and in the tranquility surrounding the two of them, he could even make out the muffled chomping noises as the Japanese man chewed.

Yuuri’s eyes darted around ever so slightly as his face shifted in concentration, and the sight was endearing enough to lift the edges of Yuri’s own lips, too.

‘There’s rice in this…’ Yuuri observed suddenly.

_You bet there is!_

‘Pork cutlet and egg, too…’

_Yep, yep! Keep going!_

Yuuri’s eyes widened with understanding, and he lifted the pirozhok slightly closer to his face to study it. ‘It’s a pork cutlet bowl!’ he proclaimed.

Yuri had been holding in his own pent-up excitement from the moment Yuuri had bit into the pirozhok, and as soon as the statement left Yuuri’s mouth, he finally let it flow forth.

‘That’s right!’ exclaimed Yuri, lifting a finger to elucidate his point. ‘My grandpa made them himself! Great, aren’t they?’ He tilted his head proudly, feeling the smile etching itself deeper onto his face.

‘Yeah! They’re _vkusno_!’

Yuri had no idea what he looked like to the world right now. Most likely a ridiculous grinning fool who was way too happy that his friend was enjoying his grandfather’s cooking. But watching Yuuri munching on the pirozhki, his previous depression replaced with pure delight that reached his eyes, Yuri Plisetsky couldn’t bring himself to give a single fuck.

‘Here, you have one, too, Yurio!’

Yuri was jolted out of his thoughts when a pirozhok appeared in front of his eyes. He glanced to the side to see Yuuri beaming at him, face eager as he extended the baked snack to the teen, and found himself completely immobilised and at a loss for words. The unwanted heat returned to Yuri’s face at full force, complete with a flush that made him attempt to pull his hood lower over his face, only to find that it would not go down any further.

‘I-It’s okay…’ he managed to stutter. ‘They’re for you—’

‘I want you to eat with me. Together,’ insisted Yuuri, offering a smile so bright and so hopeful that the snow around them and Yuri’s heart may as well have melted on the spot.

‘I… um…’

‘Yurio, are you okay?’ Yuuri’s brows knitted together as he caught sight of the blush dusting Yuri’s cheeks. ‘Your face looks like it’s turning r—’

‘I’m fine!’ snapped Yuri, reaching out and snatching the pirozhok from Yuuri’s hand. ‘I’m just cold! People’s faces can turn red when they’re cold. Didn’t you know that, moron?’ He bit into the bun aggressively, chewing noisily in the hopes that keeping his mouth occupied would save him from spluttering any more nonsense.

The Ice Tiger’s image was beyond salvaging at this point.

But somehow, with the snow drifting gently onto his nose and shoulders, the radiant lights blinking in the background, and Yuuri giggling lightly beside him, Yuri decided that this was much more precious than any image he could ever have hoped to retain. The pirozhki were indeed cold and hardened, and the frosty winter air showed no signs of relenting, but Yuri couldn’t remember a time outside of his grandfather’s house when he had ever felt this warm.

No matter how slowly he tried to eat the pirozhok, though, the moment was bound to come to an end.

‘Thank you, Yurio,’ said Yuuri sincerely, after the last morsel had been devoured. ‘I was feeling a little down before, but thanks to you, I think I’m a lot better now.’

Yuri looked up to meet the pork cutlet bowl’s glistening brown orbs, and the undeniable sparks of gratitude he saw swimming there were enough to stop him from putting on a scowl.

He held Yuuri’s gaze for just a tad longer, before closing his eyes and inhaling. ‘Whatever. Just don’t go around giving people freakish hugs and then moping alone like a loser, and maybe you’ll save me some time and food.’

Yuuri smiled with a flash of knowingness, but said nothing more. Instead, he made to fold up the empty paper bag.

‘Here, just give that to me,’ mumbled Yuri.

‘To you? Oh, it’s okay! I’ll throw—’

‘Give it to me!’

After Yuuri had flinched at his forceful insistence and obediently relinquished the mass of brown paper into his hands, Yuri looked up at the older man with a glare. ‘Well? The fuck are you doing still standing out here? Get your ass back to your hotel room before you freeze.’

Yuuri briefly shifted his gaze to his shoes, before raising his head to look Yuri in the eyes. And when he spoke again, his words were quiet but genuine. ‘Thanks for taking care of me, Yurio. I really appreciate it.’

‘Huh?! I was _not_ taking care of you, idiot!’ Yuri spat. ‘I swear to god, the ridiculous ideas you get in that shit brain of yours. Now fuck off and get some fucking sleep so you don’t miss your flight tomorrow, or you won’t get your nauseating reunion with your dumbass coach.’

Yuuri seemed completely unfazed by the Russian boy’s surly expression, which was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain. Instead, he gave Yuri a small, thankful bow. ‘Well, I guess I’ll see you at the Finals, Yurio. Good luck to both of us! And thank you again.’

Yuri watched as he turned and began to head back in the direction of the hotel. He considered hollering a reminder that Yuuri would suffer a miserable defeat at the Final, but a glimpse of the paper bag in his hand made him stop.

The pirozhki had been eaten. Not eaten by himself or anyone else, but by _Yuuri Katsuki_. Yuuri Katsuki had accepted Yuri’s early birthday gift. Yuuri Katsuki had happily eaten the pirozhki Yuri had brought for him, and even offered Yuri one, too. Yuuri Katsuki had spent his night in the freezing snow alone with Yuri, just the two of them, his face adorned with a smile that Yuri had been the cause of.

Yuri hugged the empty bag close to his body, feeling his heart swell and his chest brim with joy, and allowed himself one last, tiny smile for the night.

He was definitely not still concerned about the pork cutlet bowl or anything, but Yuri stole a final peek in the direction of Yuuri’s retreating form, and saw that his shoulders were no longer as slumped and that his feet had stopped dragging behind him with each step he took. With most of Yuuri’s misery alleviated for now, Yuri finally allowed himself to heave a sigh of relief. His part was done, and the rest lay in the hands of that stupid old man.

The wind whistled softly, carrying away with it the last remnants of Yuri’s unease, and Yuuri’s sadness was left behind to dissipate with the evening snowfall. Not all of it, but enough for Yuri to finally be at peace.

Mission accomplished.

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on [Tumblr](http://littlepurinsesu.tumblr.com/post/164580336361/in-regards-to-pirozhki-for-you).


End file.
